In Which Regina Tries To Fight The Writer
by A.R. Van Halleorg
Summary: Regina struggles to fight her fate by trying to convince, threaten, and mock the writer into submission, but she soon discovers that things aren't going to go her way.


**Comedy and I don't really get along. I hope y'all enjoy it anyways! This is an old story that I thought I'd start posting. Back to working on my other stories: YAY DRAMA!**

* * *

"Where is he!?" Regina shouted, her voice echoing off the walls of the mayoral mansion. "I know you're there. What have you done with my son?"

_He took a little trip._

"How dare you? You cannot simply send him away!"

_Of course I can. I'm the writer._

"Then write him back!" Regina commanded, her nostrils flaring. "Bring him back here or so help me, I will-"

_You will what? Threaten me some more? Don't worry, _Dear_, he'll be back soon._

* * *

Regina and Graham sat in the lounge, impatiently waiting for any sort of news. It had been a while since Regina had spoken to the writer and she wasn't about to call too much attention to herself while the Sheriff was there. Surely he'd at least have her locked up in the mental ward for the next week if she started talking to herself. She vaguely wondered why no one else could hear the writer.

_You're the only one who can hear me, because I'm trying to torment you with my superb personality. Feel privileged._

Regina glared, but said nothing. She really didn't like the writer much. This woman had it out for her. She insisted upon writing her in all these stories, playing with her life as though she were some sort of god. She could hear the writer let out a quiet laugh and rolled her eyes; so mature.

_You might want to go have a look outside._

Regina flew up from her place on the couch; a confused Sheriff following not two steps behind.

"What's going on?"

"He's back!" Regina threw the door open. "Henry?" she never felt so relieved in her entire life. She ran down the short set of steps and ran towards her son as quickly as her heels allowed. "Henry…" she reached him and hugged him close. "Are you okay?" she asked, pulling away and looking him over. "Where have you been?" She stood straight and looked between the blonde stranger and her son. "What happened?"

"I found my real Mom." Henry stated angrily and ran into the mansion.

_Wow._

Regina had to admit she'd never felt the carpet so thoroughly pulled from beneath her feet. Seemed like a night of firsts. She looked to the blonde woman again. "You're Henry's birth mother?" she asked, incredulous. Seriously?

_Oh, yeah. Seriously._

"Hi," the blonde said, a little feebly and gave a small smile.

Regina stared, a little perturbed when her heart leapt at the sight.

"I'll just," Graham said, interrupting what was about to become a really awkward moment, "Go check on the lad, make sure he's all right." He slowly backed away from the women and entered the mansion as quickly as he could.

Stop it, Regina thought to the writer.

_Stop what?_

Regina could hear the grin in the writer's voice. This was all her fault. She looked the blonde up and down, a little disappointed that the woman looked so put together. She had hoped she would be a complete and utter mess of a woman, but no such luck. And she had to be beautiful too, of course. Regina resisted the urge to roll her eyes and looked the woman in the eyes, gulped, and gave her a hostess smile. "How would you like a glass of the best apple cider you've ever tasted?"

"Got anything stronger?" The blonde asked, trying not to stare at the woman before her. She might need something stronger than stronger.

* * *

Regina waited as the blonde got into her yellow bug and drove down the street before slamming the door and resting her back against it. Well, that was a tense conversation. A conversation spent with her taking everything about this woman in. This, Emma Swan. "This is outrageous. How dare you take liberties and write whatever comes to your head? How dare you mock me!"

_Oh, do calm down, Regina. This isn't the end of the world. You did leave your world for a happy ending._

"I will not calm down," Regina stated, quite adamantly. "Couldn't your imagination conjure up anyone else, but her? What about that waitress at the diner? Or Graham? He's already be-"

_Not really, no._

"Did it have to be Henry's birth mother?" Was she whining? "That woman-"

_Get over it. Don't be an ass._

"Know that I will destroy you, if it is the last thing I do," Regina threatened, trying to sound as deadly as she once felt in the Enchanted Forest.

_You keep saying that and yet here we are, and you have yet to do anything to me._

"I simply haven't figured out how to get rid of you yet," Regina brushed the writer off.

"Mom?" Henry spoke from the top of the stairs, looking at her funny, "Who are you talking to?" Had she always had a penchant for talking to herself? He knew she was evil, but crazy too?

"No one, Dear. Now go to bed."

Henry huffed and stomped off to bed.

"Great, now he's angry with me again. This is your fault."

_Don't blame me for that child's piss-poor attitude._

"I hardly think that's any way to des-"

_Yes, well. You've never really been great with the truth, have you?_

Regina glowered and made her way back to the lounge. She sat down and took the glass of scotch from the table. Scotch. The blonde had requested it. She sat back, looking quite annoyed. As if she would ever be interested in Emma Swan. The woman could only ever consider herself lucky to breathe her air. She had no chance, no matter what the writer wrote!

And yet, her heart had leapt when she'd first seen her.

* * *

"Again!?" Regina shouted the next morning when she discovered her son was already gone.

_Yep._

"I insist that you return my son! I will not stand for this! I do not like you very much," Regina finished rather lamely.

_I know. I am okay with that and I have accepted it._

"Where is he?"

_Ask Emma._

"Why would she know?" Besides, wasn't she gone?

_Right, maybe the Sheriff will know._

Regina let out a growl of frustration and grabbed up her blazer on the way out of the mansion.

* * *

"Graham? Henry's run away again. We have to-" Regina stopped mid-stride when she spotted the blonde in one of the holding cells. "What is she doing here?" Her. The writer mentioned Emma, who was supposed to be gone! She walked right over to the bars. "Do you know where he is?"

"Lady, I haven't seen him since I dropped him at your house and I have a pretty good alibi," Emma said, standing up straight and resting her arms on the bars, trying not to feel stupid in front of this woman. Arrested for crashing into a sign.

"Well he wasn't in his room this morning," Regina explained.

Hmm. Emma tilted her head. "Did you try his friends?"

"He doesn't really have any, he's kind of a loner."

_Sounds familiar._

Shut up, Regina snapped at the writer in her head.

Emma looked away. "Every kid has friends." Even loners, she thought. If she could just figure out what friends a small-town kid might have that wasn't a stray dog. "Did you check his computer?" Small-town kids have computers, right? He lives in a mansion, he surely must. "If he's close to someone, he might be e-mailing them."

"And you know this how?" Regina demanded. Who was this woman?

_She's clearly psychic and has secret super powers._

"Shut up!" Regina growled, earning her surprised looks from both the Sheriff and Emma. "Sorry. I needed a moment to think."

"Right," Emma said, looking between the Sheriff and Regina. "Finding people is what I do." She leaned against the bars. "Here's an idea. How about you guys let me out and I'll help you find him." And Emma wouldn't be behind bars for hitting a sign anymore.

* * *

"Smart kid, he cleared his inbox."

Graham looked eagerly at the monitor in Henry's room. He really should figure out how to use one of these things.

"I'm smart too," Emma said showing her keychain. "A little hardware recovery tool I like to use."

"I'm a little more old-fashioned in my techniques," Graham said, trying to be cool, "Pounding the pavement, knocking on doors. That sort of thing."

_You know, a big deal for small-town-nobody-cop._

Regina snorted, trying not to laugh and turned away when they both looked at her. Oops.

"You're on salary. I get paid for delivery. Pounding the pavement is not a luxury that I get," Emma explained, secretly noting the fact that the Mayor seemed to have a sense of humour. She watched as various strings of text scrolled on the screen and deleted messages appeared. "Huh. There's a receipt here for a website. Who's Your Momma dot org." She was even more surprised by the contents. "It's expensive. He has a credit card?"

"He's ten." Regina scoffed and returned to the desk's edge, wondering who could possibly have given her son a credit card.

_Because that's a crazy notion, right? You come from a magical land with fairies and Evil Queens and you're scoffing at the idea of a 10 year old with a credit card, really?_

"Well, he used one," Emma said, already working on trying to figure out what the source of the payment was. "Let's pull up a transaction record." She clicked on the receipt PDF. Sure enough, there it was. "Mary Margaret Blanchard. Who's Mary Margaret Blanchard?"

"Henry's teacher." Regina was not amused.

_Dun, dun, dunnn._

* * *

Regina entered the classroom, trying not to trample any of the small children. She was sure it was frowned upon in this world. Their parents might disapprove and it would ruin the next election. "Where is my son?"

"Henry. I assumed he was home sick with you," Ms Blanchard felt her stomach flip a little. Oh no, what had happened to the boy?

"Do you think I'd be here if he was?" Regina noticed as Henry's teacher spotted Emma. "Did you give him your credit card, so he could find her?"

"I'm sorry," she said to the blonde. "Who are you?"

_She's EMMA! Hi, Emma. Welcome to Storybrooke, our mayor has a secret thing for you!_

"Would you cut that out!" Regina shouted, nearly screaming at the writer. "Enough!"

Mary Margaret jumped back, startled. "I'm sorry? What did I-"

Regina sighed. "Nothing, Dear. She's the woman who gave him up for adoption."

"It's been a strain," Emma explained, a little disturbed by the random outbursts. Did Regina have Tourette syndrome?

Mary Margaret nodded and lowered her purse from her shoulder, immediately opening it to look through her wallet.

"You don't know anything about this, do you?" Emma asked.

"No," Mary Margaret said, noticing the place where the card had once been. "Unfortunately not." She gave a half-pleased smile but shook her head. "Clever boy."

_It's not clever! He stole your credit card, Lady! Seriously!_

Regina begrudgingly had to agree with the writer on this one. It might have been smart, but there was nothing clever about thieving.

"I should never have given him that book."

That grabbed Regina's attention. Emma had mentioned a book the night before when they'd spoken in the lounge over strong drinks. "What in the hell is this book I keep hearing about?"

"Just some old stories I gave him," Mary Margaret tried to reassure. "As you well know, Henry is a special boy."

_I'll say._

Regina tried her best to keep her cool. The writer really needed to stop insulting her kid. It was akin to insulting her parenting skills!

"So smart. So creative. And as you might be aware… lonely. He needed it."

"What he needs is a dose of reality," Regina stated.

_Oh, sure! I see how it is. You can take a dig at him, but I can't._

"This is a waste of time." Regina moved to leave, making sure to dump a bunch of books on the ground and shove her way past Emma. "Enjoy your ride back to Boston."

_Hey now, there's no need to-_

"I'm done with you for the day."

_Luckily, I'm the writer, not you. If you think for one moment this is the last you'll see of her, you're sorely mistaken, _Dear.

* * *

It was afternoon by the time any news finally reached Regina, who was holed up on the mansion.

_You might want to look outside._

Regina reluctantly rose from the lounge sofa and went to the front door, opening it slowly and stepping out. She watched Henry run past her inside and looked at the blonde who stood where she had the night before. She contemplating going back inside, but thought better of it. She stepped towards the end of the stoop, hands in her pockets. "Thank you."

"No problem," Emma responded quietly.

_Awww. Y'all are just so sweet. Sniff!_

Regina ignored the writer and stepped the last bit to the edge. "He seems to have taken a shine to you."

"You know, it's kind of crazy…" Emma drew out. "Yesterday was my birthday and when I blew out the candle on this cupcake I bought myself…"

Why do I care? Regina thought.

_Shhh. I'm trying to watch this._

"I actually made a wish."

Oh, do tell, Regina thought again.

_Regina! You're killing it!_

"That I didn't have to be alone on my birthday…and then Henry showed up," Emma voice cracked with emotion.

_Oh, this is good._

"I hope there's no misunderstanding here," Regina said, a little delighted at the suddenly downcast look on Emma's face.

"I'm sorry?"

_Way to go, Regina. Kick her puppy while you're at it._

"Don't mistake all of this as invitation back into his life," Regina said, motioning around.

"Oh…" Ouch.

"Miss Swan. You made a decision ten years ago. And in the last decade, while you've been…Well, who knows what you've been doing." Regina applauded herself. She was finally getting back at the writer. "I've changed every diaper, soothed every fever, and endured every tantrum. You may have given birth to him, but he is _my_ son."

"Oh, I wasn't-"

"No! You don't get to speak."

_Regina, stop being mean. This isn't very funny._

We can't have all we want, Dear, she thought to the writer. "You don't get to do anything. You gave up that right, when you tossed him away. Do you know what-"

Emma shook her head. "Stop," she said quietly.

Regina actually seemed a little surprised by the quiet interruption. It threw her enough to pause.

"I'm not here to take him away from you."

"Then why are you here, Miss Swan?"

"I don't know yet," Emma admitted. "But I want to find out, so just stop."

"I'm not going to let you-"

"I know, okay? I got the gist of it."

_I don't like you very much right now, Regina._

Regina grinned, finally feeling like she might have won at least one of these battles.

"If it matters. I don't think you're this Evil Queen that he thinks you are. No matter how awful you're being right now."

_Yes, yes!_

"It doesn't." It did. She'd been quite abrupt with the blonde since she'd first shown up on her doorstep and yet she still didn't see her as evil. That mattered.

_Aha!_

"I'm staying…for a week," Emma supplied. "Maybe we can talk." She turned and left before the Mayor could say anything.

"Not. One. Word." Regina looked less than amused by the turn of events. Just because it mattered, didn't mean that insufferable blonde had to stay!

_That's exactly why she must stay. You think she's beautiful, her opinion matters, and she can actually track down your runaway child. Bonus!_

"I hate you."

The writer simply laughed, now that she knew she was still ahead of Regina in the game.

* * *

**Review tho. It gives my ego a boost and I like my ego. ;) lol Even if you don't, I hope you enjoyed it!**


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